


He's A Twelve (But Never Tell Him I Said So!)

by canthelpmyselves



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Ranking Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-06 04:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16381496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canthelpmyselves/pseuds/canthelpmyselves
Summary: Len overhears Cisco asking Barry to rank the attractiveness of a few people they all know which leads to a surprising revelation.





	1. Len Overhears

“I mean, sure, she’s got incredible eyes, but her personality leaves a lot to be desired. I give her a five.”

“You’re just too picky. How can you rank Dillon so low?”

“Easily.”

“Well, what about her partner? You have to admit, he’s cute. Just your type, am I right?”

“Hardly. The guy’s crazy. Like, certifiably crazy. He could be the poster child for mental illness.”

“You gotta admit he’s hot, at least.”

“I’d rather not get stabbed in my sleep. He’s a two, at best.”

“Fine, Barr. What about Miser # Two?”

“Again, not looking to get murdered. Which is exactly what would happen if I so much as batted my eyes at him.”

“Are you seriously telling me you wouldn’t hit that? Think of the intense sex!”

“What can I say? I like breathing.”

“Wimp.”

“If he or his partner suspected, even for a second, that I think about either Miser sexually, they would gut me.”

“You will die sad and lonely.”

“So be it.”

“Whether you want to admit it or not, I know you think the guy’s sex on a stick.”

“He’s a twelve on a one-to-ten scale,” Barry admitted. “And even admitting that could get me punched.”

Len pushed off from the wall and walked into the cortex. He kept his expression blank as he moved toward Cisco and Barry. It’s been almost a year since the Rogues and Team Flash joined forces. Star Labs has been turned into a sort of boarding house/training center for them all. Currently, Len, Hartley, Mick, Axel, Barry and Harry had private quarters there. Cisco and Shawna (what a shock that relationship was!) had an apartment a few blocks away. Caitlin and Ronnie lived across town in a small suburb. Iris and Eddie lived next door to Joe. Mark had taken over one of the old safe houses, preferring to live off the grid, so to speak. 

To be honest, conversations like the one he had overheard weren’t unusual. He had heard Iris, Lisa, Shawna, Caitlin, Hartley and Cisco have similar discussions with each other far too many times. Usually they debated the ‘fuckability’ of celebrities. This was the first time he had heard Barry play the ranking game. To be honest, he thought Barry was dating that guy at Jitters. What was his name again? Matt? Pat?

“Miser # Two? We have a new meta, Ramon?” he drawled.

Barry froze in place, his face turning bright red. Len blinked and suddenly the speedster was gone, leaving him and Ramon alone. Curious, he turned toward the engineer with a raised eyebrow. Ramon gave a faint whimper, his eyes wide with alarm.

“Ramon?” he growled roughly.

“Um... hi?” Ramon said, his voice cracking slightly.

Len crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

Ramon fidgeted for several seconds before his shoulders slumped and he dropped into the desk chair. “If I tell you, Barry will never speak to me again.”

“If you don’t tell me,” he threatened, “I’ll freeze your hair and snap off each lock.”

Ramon gasped in horror, his hands quickly clamping tight over his head. “BARRYLIKESMICKBUTTHINKSMICKWOULDKILLHIMIFHEADMITSIT!”

Len blinked a couple of times as he replayed that mashed together sentence through his head. Slowly he began to smirk. “Say again,” he ordered.

Ramon whimpered again. “Barry likes Mick,” he said carefully, making it sound more like a question than an answer.

Len tilted his head slightly. “You gave Mick a secret codename?”

Ramon paled. “H-h-heat Miser,” he mumbled.

Len examined the nails on his right hand. “Do I have a secret codename?”

“Snow Miser,” Ramon groaned, embarrassed. 

“Mmm hmm,” Len murmured. “And Scarlet thinks Mick is a twelve.” His lips pulled up into a chilly smile. “What am I?”

A low whine emerged from Ramon’s mouth and his shoulders curled in a bit. “Eight,” he admitted. He chewed on his bottom lip for a second. “Although, you should know, he took away a point because you froze him to the wall during training and left him there.”

Len considered that for a moment before shrugging. “Fair.” He slipped his hands into his pockets and turned to leave.

“Um, what are you going to do?” Ramon asked warily.

Len chuckled with amusement. “Don’t worry, kid. We’re cool.”


	2. Len Is A Little Sh*t

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len is having way too much fun telling Mick about what he's learned.

“Did you know Ramon and Scarlet refer to us as Snow Miser and Heat Miser?”

Mick looked up from the cookie dough he was mixing and frowned. “What?”

Len smirked and walked into the kitchen. He hopped up onto the counter and grabbed a handful of chocolate chips. “In an attempt to secretly discuss us, Ramon and Scarlet have begun referring to you and I as Heat Miser and Snow Miser, respectively.”

Mick’s frown deepened. “What are they discussing?” 

Len smirked as he let the chips melt on his tongue. “Apparently, I was a 9 on their sexiness scale, until I froze Scarlet to a wall.”

Mick’s frown turned into a petulant glare. “So?” he mumbled. “Ain’t like that’s a surprise. Red’s always flirted with you.”

Len’s smirk grew wider. “Wanna know where you rank?”

Mick’s cheeks turned a little pink. “I can guess,” he muttered, stirring the dough faster. 

“I bet you can’t,” Len replied. He watched Mick carefully for several seconds before huffing. Mick was trying to ignore him and he knew why. Mick was head over heels for the speedster and doing his damnedest to pretend otherwise. After a long moment of silence, Len hopped down and grabbed the bowl from Mick’s hands. He ignored the sharp glare his partner gave him.

“Twelve, Mick.”

The pyro paused and blinked a couple of times. “What?”

“Barry Allen, Hero of Central City, the Flash,” Len said with glee, “thinks you, my old friend, are a 12 on a scale of 1-10. I am currently an 8, having lost a point for the aforementioned freezing. Whereas you, the guy who set his favorite chair on fire, broke his leg when you tinkered with the treadmill without warning him, and ate his personal stash of green gummy bears, _twice_ , are a 12.”

Len relished the absolute shock on his friend’s face. The wide, startled eyes, the unhinged jaw, the way Mick’s fingers jumped and twitched as if trying to get a grip on his thoughts. This was better than any soap opera or situational comedy he had ever seen! And the puns! Dear god, his range of puns had just increased tenfold!

“Heatflash,” he purred. “Or maybe Flashwave? I guess it depends on who’s giving and who’s receiving. I wonder if Scarlet is as like a flash fire or if he’s more of a slow burn between the sheets. I hope there are some Class C fire extinguishers around here. Best way to put out an electrical fire, you know.”

Mick shook himself out of his stupor and glared at Len fiercely. “You’re lying,” he growled.

Len shook his head with a wide grin. “No, I'm not.”

Mick grabbed the bowl back and began stirring as if trying to beat the dough into submission. “No way Red likes me. He flirts with you!”

“Only because he thinks he’d get punched if he,” Len paused gleefully, “what was it he said? Oh yeah, he would get murdered if he so much as batted his eyes at you.”

“See, he’s scared of me,” Mick said angrily. “You can’t like someone your scared of.”

Len shrugged. “What can I say? He wants your fire drill.” Len smirked widely. “You light his spark. You make his voltage rise. If he touches your ass, is that called a fila-Mick? Do you wanna see his family joules? I bet he wants you to overheat his...”

“STOP!” Mick shouted, tossing the bowl onto the counter and dragging both hands down his face. “I hate you so much,” he muttered gruffly.

Len slipped his hands into his pockets. “I’ll stop when you agree to discharge all this suppressed heat between you two.”

Mick growled and grabbed Len by the front of his shirt. “I swear to god, Snart! One more pun and I’ll flatten you!”

The sound of a throat clearing drew both men’s eyes to the door. Barry was watching them with a fond smile. “Glad to know I’m not the only one who gets annoyed with Cold.”

Len smirked as Mick quickly released him and stepped back, eyes everywhere but on Barry. “Some people just don’t appreciate good humor,” he teased.

Barry snorted as he moved further into the kitchen. “Let me know when you figure out what humor is,” he retorted. “I look forward to your first joke.”

Len rolled his eyes and ignored Mick’s chuckle. “My talents are wasted here,” he said in a snobbish tone. “I know when I’m not watted.”

Barry groaned and shook his head. “Still waiting on the humor.”

Len smirked and moved past Barry, toward the door. Just as he passed Barry he spun and gave a hard shove to the speedster’s back, sending him stumbling into Mick. Before either man could stop him, he was out the door and freezing it shut. Barry groaned as he looked at the thick ice door now blocking the exit. 

“I swear, sometimes he’s like one of those dick cats that break stuff just to annoy,” Barry grumbled. “What possible reason could he have for freezing the door? He knows you can just melt it with your gun, right?”

Not getting an answer, he turned to look at Mick, only to find him staring back intently. Barry swallowed nervously. “Um, Mick? Is something wrong?”

Mick inched a little closer to Barry, his brown eyes locked onto Barry’s hazel ones. “So,” he said hesitantly. “I’m a 12?”

Barry’s complexion immediately turned as red as his suit. “Wha…? How…? Oh shit!”

Barry twitched and looked as if he was about to make a run for it. Mick was quicker, for once. He shot out a hand and grabbed Barry’s forearm, holding him in place. He moved forward again, closing the distance between them to only a couple of inches.

“Say no and I’ll back off,” Mick said, his voice low and gravelly. 

Barry stared up at him with wide, rapidly dilating eyes. He licked his lips, just a quick dart of his tongue, before removing the remaining distance between them. “Yes,” he said confidently.

Mick growled before dipping his head and capturing Barry’s mouth with his.


	3. Broken Beds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len is curious about what Barry is up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of this story falls mostly under the last story tag. The chapters are short because I didn't want to go into too much detail, preferring to let you imagine certain aspects in your head. Trust me, nothing you imagine could possibly be as funny as the visions in mine.

Len glanced up from polishing his gun as Barry walked into the workshop and grabbed some electrical tape. He was about to turn back to his task when he recognized the too-big shirt. A smirk tugged at his lips and he leaned back and tilted his head. 

“Isn’t that Mick’s shirt?” he asked.

Barry nodded as he opened a door and picked up a pair of scissors. “Yep.” He began cutting a two inch wide strip off the roll of tri-polymer his suit was made from.

“Now, how did you end up wearing Mick’s shirt?” Len mused smugly.

“It was the first one I picked up,” Barry answered as he set the strip of material by the electrical tape and began opening drawers.

“Did it get mixed in with your laundry?” Len teased.

“Nope. It was on my floor,” Barry told him. He lifted a leather punch and a small awl out, setting them on the material.

“And why was it on your floor?” Len asked. He was surprised by the kid’s lack of embarrassment, and becoming curious over what Barry was doing. 

“Because that’s where it landed when Mick took it off,” Barry mumbled, frowning as he continued searching for something. 

Len stood and walked over to stand beside Barry. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

“I need waxed nylon thread,” Barry replied, shifting through another drawer.

“What for?” Len demanded, growing frustrated by Barry’s lack of attention.

“For the awl.”

“Why do you need the awl and leather punch?”

“For the polymer.”

“Why do you need the polymer? Your suit’s fine.”

“For the pillow.”

“What? Why do you need the polymer for a pillow?”

“Because it tore,” Barry said, grabbing the electrical tape.

“Then what’s the tape for?” he asked, exasperated

“So Mick can fix the leg on your bed, which we broke when we were having the best sex ever,” Barry said, smiling as he grabbed a spool of the thread. He moved around Len and grabbed the other things he had piled up.

Len’s jaw hung open as he replayed Barry’s words in his head. WHAT?!


	4. Don't C-Block

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len is not happy.

Len stared at the lopsided frame of his former bed and huffed with annoyance. The bottom left leg was cracked and the top left leg was held in place by electrical tape. The polymer strip was wrapped around his pillow, tied with a bow, but did nothing to hide the large wet tear in the covering. There were teeth marks in the foam! Sitting right in the center of his mattress was a tied off condom. Len looked closer and groaned. Make that two condoms. 

He turned on his heel and stomped down the corridor to Mick’s room. The door was open and his partner was sitting on the edge of his own pristine bed, tying his boot. Len gritted his teeth to try and keep his anger in check. 

“Care to explain?” he snarled.

Mick snorted and stood up, reaching for a shirt. “You froze Red’s crotch during training yesterday. Took three hours to heal and by then, he had to go to work. Don’t cock block.”

“It was an accident!”Len argued. And it had been. Mostly. “Ramon tripped me with his stupid vibing!”

Mick grinned viciously. “You should see his bed.”

Len crossed his arms and glared at Mick. “Fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “Even?”

Mick tilted his head as he stared at Len. “Even.”

Len nodded sharply and left the room. He scoffed internally. If Mick thought they were really even, he was getting soft. No one wrecked his bed with their animal rutting and got away with it!


	5. Escalation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone really think Len was going to let this go?

“Um, Mick?” Barry whimpered. “Why are we glowing?”

Mick could only stare at their dicks in horror. They hadn’t noticed it while they had sex or when they cleaned up with an old shirt, but now that the lights were off and they were about to settle into bed, there was a faint glow coming from their crotches. 

 

Mick rubbed his hand up and down Barry’s back soothingly, ignoring his own worries as they watched Snow head their way. When she stepped into the room, her tablet in hand, Len, Lisa, Iris and Eddie moved closer to the couple in silent support.

“Well, the t-tests are complete,” the doctor said, her cheeks bright red and her voice cracking.

“What is it?” Barry asked weakly. “Can you fix it? Oh god! We’re radioactive! It’s cancer, isn’t it?”

Snow snorted and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. “Um, no,” she managed to wheeze. She walked over to a counter and grabbed a package of wet towelettes. “This should fix everything.”

Barry and Mick exchanged confused looks. “What?” Barry asked.

Snow burst into loud giggles. “D-dye,” she stuttered. “It’s g-glow-in-the-dark d-dye!” Her eyes welled up with tears and she almost dropped her tablet as she laughed loudly. “T-there was d-dye in t-the condoms!”

Mick’s jaw dropped and he watched Barry turn the color of a ripe tomato. Dye? How the hell…?!

A chuckle from his left side had Mick turning toward his oldest friend. Len’s expression was pure smugness. “Next time, don’t break my bed,” he purred before turning and sauntering out of the room.

By the time Mick and Barry had regained their composure and left the room, their friends were practically rolling on the floor with hilarity.

***

“You do realize this is a bad idea, right?” Iris asked as she sat down between Eddie and Barry and looked at the machine on the table.

Eddie gave her a peck on the cheek before going back to filling the reservoir with bubble soap. Barry glanced at her briefly before continuing to solder the circuit board. 

“He started it,” the speedster said mulishly.

“Snart froze you. You destroyed his bed. He added dye to all of your condoms. Where does it end?” she asked.

“With this,” Barry said smugly, placing the circuit board inside it’s casing and screwing the lid in place. 

“And what is this?” she asked.

Barry and Eddie grinned at her without answering.

***

Len breathed in slowly through his nose, held it five seconds, then exhaled through his mouth. His feet were slowly becoming more and more wet as the bubbled slid down into his boots. His hand twitched toward his gun, but he was fairly certain that freezing the massive mound of bubbles currently filling his room was a bad idea. Hanging from the ceiling was a metal box that continued to expel a steady stream of foam.

“I’m not helping you clean that up,” Lisa said, leaning against the wall behind him. 

“Dude,” Cisco said softly, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m impressed.”

He wanted to be furious. He really really did. But seeing his room full of foam and bubbles was actually kind of... delightful. This was a prank war. He’d never had one of those. He’d never had people… no, _friends_ that he felt comfortable enough with to be playful toward. 

His toes curled inside his boots, making a squishy noise. “This means war,” he drawled.

Behind him Lisa grinned and Cisco gulped.


	6. Audio Only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Len has been quiet. Too quiet.

After the Bubble Incident, as Cisco liked to call it, Len had gone off the grid for a couple of days. Barry hadn’t been worried, since he did that occasionally, but Mick began jumping at shadows. When Barry asked him why, Mick had given him a pointed look. 

_‘Red, you don’t know just how cagey that bastard can be. He’s up to something. Something big.’_

Six days after they filled Len’s room with bubbles, he reappeared. Looking smug. Too smug to be up to anything good. For the last two days Barry and Mick had both peeked around corners, checked for booby traps and watched each others’ backs.

Barry was just stepping out of the shower when the alert sounded. He groaned, kissing his night of cuddles away before speeding into the cortex and donning his suit. A minute later Mick and Len appeared, dressed and armed.

“What have we got?” Barry asked as Joe, Caitlin and Hartley came running.

“Looks like a bank robbery on 25th,” Iris said, typing away on the computer to pull up camera footage. “Yep. Five guys, armed. They’ve got the guards tied up.” 

Cisco stepped around the console and opened a breach. “Have fun.”

Barry smirked as he and the two Rogues stepped into the blue vortex and transported to the bank. As soon as they were on solid ground Barry activated his comm. Mick did the same, but for some reason Len just crossed his arms and smirked widely.

“Cisco, any news?” Barry asked, giving Len a questioning look.

_‘Oh god, yes!_  
Harder!  
Fuck! So good!  
Who do you belong to? Say it!  
You, Sir! I belong to you!’ 

Barry could feel the blood draining from his face. Beside him Mick gave a weird whimper-slash-groan. 

“Um, guys?” Iris said weakly, her voice almost drowned out by an almost pornographic moan. “Are you… hearing what I am?”

_‘You like that, you like being my little slut?_  
Please, Sir! I’m your little slut!  
That’s right, you're my little cock slut!’ 

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh was obnoxiously loud over the comms in their ears. Barry desperately wanted to speed away, but his entire body was frozen in place. Beside him, Mick had holstered his gun and was dragging his hands down his face red face.

“I’m gonna kill you, Snart,” Barry mumbled weakly.

Len snorted and turned toward the bank, where the thieves were trying to slip out the door. He quickly iced their feet to the ground before turning back and grinning wickedly. “Just be glad I didn’t upload the one where Mick was role playing the handy-man there to fix your plumbing,” he teased before quickly dashing off into the night.


	7. Big Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Mick get revenge, again. Very public revenge.

Len knew there would be retaliation. He was prepared for whatever Mick and Scarlet came up with. Or rather, he thought he was prepared. 

He was surrounded. No hope of escape. This was the end. From somewhere far off he heard a pained whimper. It took three and a third seconds to realize the sound came from him, from his throat, which was threatening to close up and suffocate him. 

It was supposed to be a rescue mission. Barry was (supposedly) on Earth 5. Mick was (supposedly) injured. Hartley and Len were sent out to stop a (supposed) meta from bombing a museum. There was a sharp tug on the back of his parka and he spun, hand quickly going to his (now empty) holster. 

Several feet away stood Barry (who had stolen and hid the cold gun before Len could realize he had been set up), Mick, Lisa and Iris. Both women were holding up their phones, recording the goings on. Len struggled not to flip them both off.

“Mis’er Cold! Mis’er Cold!”

Len flinched as the tiny boy tugged harder on his parka, his hands covered in sticky cotton candy. “What,” he asked through clenched teeth.

“I gots to pee!” he demanded.

Len recoiled as much as the kid’s grip would allow. “Then go pee,” he bit out.

The boy rolled his eyes as only a four year old could. “You gots to go, too! Not s’posed to go wiffout a ‘dult!”

“Can’t someone else take you?” Len growled.

The boy shook his head. “You my Big Brovah today. Mis’er Rory says I gots to stay wiff you!”

Len pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. He shot his ‘allies’ a betrayed look before gingerly taking the boy’s sticky hand and walking toward the bathrooms, passing a horrified Hartley being hugged by a tiny little girl in a princess dress.

***

Len would shoot them if he knew where Barry had hid his gun. A little frostbite would be appropriate punishment for this travesty of a day. He crossed his arms over his chest and sent them his iciest glare. “Revenge is a dish best served cold,” he snarled.

Lisa snickered as she continued to scroll through the pictures she had downloaded off her phone onto the cortex computer. “You like kids,” she pointed out.

“Barry and Mick tricked me into escorting a sticky, wet, smelly child around the museum for two hours,” he argued.

Lisa rolled her eyes. “Simon did not smell.”

“He did too!” Len argued. “He smelled like play dough! And my parka is covered in cotton candy and cheese powder! He _peed_ on my shoe, Lisa!”

“Toddlers have bad aim,” she pointed out. “Just be glad most of it went into the toilet. And you’re the one who bought him Cheetos.”

“He wouldn’t stop crying,” Len pouted.

Iris stepped into the room and handed Lisa her tablet. Lisa read for a moment before beginning to cackle loudly. She slid the tablet across the console toward Len. He hesitated a moment before leaning over to read what was on the display. There was a photo of Len holding the hand of the kid from the museum.

** Captain Cold Melts For The Big Brother Program **

The women’s hysterical laughter followed him all the way to the elevator.


	8. Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team is sick and tired of pranks.

Len removed all the furniture from Barry and Mick’s room, replacing it with bondage furniture.

Barry and Mick wallpapered Len’s room with strategically blurred photos of Barry and Mick enjoying the furniture.

Len recruited Mark to his side. They spent hours trying to outrun the storm clouds that hovered over their heads all day.

Len’s gun began playing the General Lee horn sound every time he pressed the trigger.

Mick’s motorcycle was mysteriously replaced with a bright pink Vespa.

Barry convinced Captain Singh to hold the first ever Captain Cold Look-A-Like contest for the Widows and Children charity drive. (Len’s left eye twitched for a full hour after he caught sight of more then forty police officers in parkas and goggles while on duty.)

***

Len lifted an eyebrow as he walked into the cortex and found the rest of the team waiting with stern looks. Iris, Lisa, Cisco, Caitlin, Cecile, Shawna, Joe and Hartley were standing on one side while Barry and Mick were on the other. “Problems?” he drawled.

Cisco crossed his arms over his chest. “You put itching powder in Barry’s suit. My beloved baby! It took four hours to clean her!”

“Someone put shaving cream in a cool whip container,” Shawna hissed. “My apple pie was ruined!”

“It took my hairdresser two hours to get the slime out of my hair,” Iris growled.

“Just because Barry rides with me to crime scenes doesn’t mean you can wire super speakers to my radio and almost deafen me with the Flash Gordon theme song,” Joe glared.

“The pranks end now,” Lisa said imperiously. “We’re tired of walking on eggshells and peeking around corners because you three have regressed to toddlers.”

Len snorted and crossed his arms, raising on hand to inspect his fingernails. “And if we don’t?”

Lisa snorted and took a step closer. “Do you really want to test me?”

“Or me?” Iris snarled.

Barry, Mick and Len exchanged wary looks before nodding. “Fine,” Barry said with a heavy sigh. “We’ll quit pranking each other. Happy?”

“Guess we won’t be needing those Pop Rocks, huh?” Mick asked, looking disappointed.

“Children,” Shawna sneered before leaving the room with a shake of her head. The rest of the team followed, still glaring at the three men. 

A full minute passed before Len turned to look at Barry and Mick. “Are we really giving up so easily?”

Barry grinned wickedly at his long-time rival. “Wanna team up?”

Len smirked deviously. “Of course,” he purred.

Mick chuckled and pulled several bags of PopRocks from his pocket. “These will work in Hartley’s protein shake powder as well as they would your hot cocoa mix.”


End file.
